Part 17 (1/2)

Fern could practically see the pit yawning at her feet. She knew she ought to turn the conversation to another subject. She should get down and walk back to town if necessary. But she didn't.

”Why?” she asked.

”Abilene might never discover that a swan has been masquerading as an ugly duckling. More importantly, you might never discover it.”

Fern looked away. She didn't want Madison to see the pain in her eyes.

”Don't,” she pleaded. ”I know what I look like.”

Madison took her chin in his hand and gently, so as not to cause her any pain, turned her face until she was forced to look straight at him.

”You don't know what I think you look like.”

”Please.” She tried to turn away, but he wouldn't let her.

”I see a young woman who's hiding from herself, from what she is and what she wants to be, because she's afraid, afraid to admit she's pretty because it'll force her to confront something that frightens her.”

”Stop!” Fern cried out, wrenching her chin from Madison's grasp.

Madison pulled the buggy to a stop. He took Fern by the shoulders and turned her to face him.

”It would be cruel to let you go on believing you're ugly and unwomanly.”

”Just because I choose to wear pants”

”If I thought you believed in yourself, I wouldn't say another word about your pants,” Madison said. ”But I don't want you to wear them out of fear.”

”I don't. I”

”You're afraid a man might want to kiss you, so afraid you try to pretend you're unattractive.”

”Don't be absurd. I”

”But I know better, and I intend to make you believe it.”

”How?” she asked fearfully.

Gently drawing her to him, Madison lifted her chin until she had to look at him. ”By making you believe I want to do this.”

Then, ever so gently, he feathered a kiss across her lips.

Fern's breath stilled in her lungs; her heart beat erratically. The universe stood still, stranding her somewhere between heaven and h.e.l.l.

She nearly dissolved under his touch. No man had ever shaken her determination, yet Madison nearly destroyed it. Never had she wanted so much to give in.

His lips felt warm and soft as they brushed her own like two pieces of silk. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. The chill of excitement caused her to welcome the sun's heat. The next instant she felt so hot she thought she might faint.

Madison's'lips enticed her to join him in a tentative kiss. Her breath caught in a gasp when the tip of his tongue left a velvety trail of moisture on her lower lip. She felt paralyzed, unaware of anything in this vast open s.p.a.ce except Madison.

Just as she started to pull back, Madison's hold tightened and he drew her into a kiss that was much more than the brus.h.i.+ng of lips. Fern felt pa.s.sion, need, desire, a sudden urgency that made the day seem suddenly too hot and dangerous. This was no longer a languorous kiss of two people exploring each other. Nor was it a kiss of idle curiosity, a kiss motivated by the desire to make her feel good about herself. It was a kiss filled with the promise of a pa.s.sion that would last more than a day.

Frightened, Fern drew back, her breath uneven, her eyes wide and uncertain.

”You deserve to be kissed often,” Madison murmured. ”You deserve to know you're a very desirable woman. Is that what Troy did? Is that why you're the only person in Abilene who has anything good to say about him?”

The bubble burst, and Fern felt herself floating toward h.e.l.l. She removed Madison's hands from her arms.

”No,” she said, drawing away from Madison. She fought down the fear that always enveloped her when a man touched her, even by accident. She only had to remain calm until she could tell him to stop, tell him to never touch her again.

”Will you tell me why?”

”No.”

”You will someday.”

She s.h.i.+vered. Her will seemed to shake. She fought to regain control. She had to tell him to leave her alone, and she had to do it now. I can't accept your invitation,” she told him.

”Why?”

”I don't want to go. But it's not just that.” She didn't look at him. She couldn't. ”I don't want you to touch me or kiss me. I don't want any man to do that. Not ever.”

Madison didn't know whether he was more shocked by his own actions or by Fern's words. He had invited her to the party on a sudden impulse. Her refusal piqued him. He might have kissed her to tease her, but it had turned into much more than that. He might have wanted to shock her into seeing something about herself, but he was as shocked as she.

He had been swept away by a strong yearning that had nothing to do with shocking or teasing. It had to do with a feeling that there was more to her than a sheepskin vest and Spanish spurs. Somewhere buried inside was a woman no one knew, not even Fern.

Her refusal upset him quite a lot. He had suspected she was trying to keep her distance from him, but he never imagined she might mean it to become a permanent barrier. It never occurred to him until now that he would care.

But he did.

Fern had been awake for some time. But rather than get up, she lay in bed, listening to the sounds of the house, letting her thoughts wander at random.

She tried to keep them from wandering to Madison, but he seemed to fill every corner of her mind. He had become an obsession that had taken over her life and would not be banished.

She didn't dislike him anymore, but that didn't make it easier. In fact, it made things worse. She could have hated him with a flaming pa.s.sion and it would have died a natural death when he left town. She might have thought of him from time to time, much as she occasionally thought of accidents or natural disasters, but that would have been all.

Now she liked him. It shocked her to admit it, but she couldn't help it. She did.

It was an odd kind of liking. It wasn't easy or comfortable. It was like something that had invaded her life. She had no control over it. She could shout at him, argue with him, call him every name she could think of, and know all the while she didn't mean it. She could urge him to go back to Boston and never come back, but she didn't mean that either.

Just the thought of never seeing him again caused a kind of panic. What was there about this man that made him different from all others? What had he done to become unforgettable?

The only answer that made any sense was completely unacceptable. She wouldn't allow any man to be that important to her. These feelings would go away if she could just put him out of her mind.

But how could she put him out of mind when the feel of his kiss still lay on her lips like something tangible?

All her life she'd thought of men as compet.i.tors. She had had nothing but contempt for women who swooned over their touch, who could think of no greater purpose in life than to attract their attention.